


Axe, Sweat, and Cigarettes

by Anarchyduck



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Flashbacks, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Worried Ned Leeds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29029575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchyduck/pseuds/Anarchyduck
Summary: "The sense of smell is the hair-trigger of memory." - Mary StewartPeter hates the smell of Axe body spray.
Relationships: Ned Leeds & Peter Parker
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	Axe, Sweat, and Cigarettes

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing happens, but there is implied child sexual abuse. Especially if you know the character of Skip Westcott. Spider-Man has always been my favorite, but after learning about that, I find Peter Parker so much more relatable. 
> 
> Personally, I hate the smell of Scope mouthwash.

Peter hates the smell of Axe body spray. The guys in the locker room always use too much and it lingers for days. It was bad before he got his powers, but after it was nearly overwhelming. It’s too bad Couch Wilson doesn’t time them for dress out; he’s sure he would get an A for it. 

But enhanced senses isn’t the reason he hates it. Even the different kinds used in the locker room doesn’t quite hit the smell he hates. It stands as a reminder, but not near enough to push him over the edge.

It isn’t until he’s in the bodega down the street from Ned’s place when he smells it.

It hits him like a train. The way the smell drifts across the aisle and he freezes, stock still. 

Axe body spray. Sweat. Cigarettes. 

Peter’s blood goes cold. Color drains from his face and he swallows thickly, mouth gone dry. His other senses kick in, screaming at him to act. The threat is behind you. Don’t stand there, you idiot. Move. MOVE. 

“Steven, grab some chips!” 

“Yeah, got it!” 

The voice grates his ears and suddenly Peter forgets to breathe. His mind is still yelling at him, alarm bells are blaring, and he just wants to run but he feels cemented to the floor. All he can do is dare a look over his shoulder to the man on the aisle behind him. 

His hair isn’t styled in the way Peter remembers him. There are dark circles beneath his eyes, darker than last time. His clothes are different, more casual and less like he’s out to impress. There is still a bump on his nose and acne scars on his cheeks. He doesn’t notice Peter staring at him. Doesn’t realize he’s even there, just a few feet ahead of him. 

Peter watches him browse the chips then grab a couple bags and heads up front to the register. The woman who called him says something Peter can’t catch and Steven laughs. It crawls over his skin and he feels like throwing up. 

_“Einstein, I know a really cool game we can play.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Yeah, but you have to promise not to tell anyone. It’s a secret.”_

“--eter. Peter!” 

Peter jumps, all noise rushing back to his ears and he turns to see Ned standing beside him. “Y-Yeah? What?” 

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get your attention for like, the past two minutes.” Ned looks at him with concern. “Didn’t you hear me?”

“Huh? No, I just...” Peter looks at the register again and sees Steven and the girl leave. He curls and uncurls his hands, tension rolling off him as he finally breathes. 

“What’s wrong? Is it”-- Ned glances around and leans in, his voice dropping to a whisper-- “Is it a spidey thing?”

Was it? It didn’t feel like that. Similar, but not like the spider sense he became accustomed to. Peter shook his head. “No, no,” he breathes in deeply through his nose and breathes out his mouth. His heart still beats wildly in his chest and he wiggles his toes in his shoes. “I just, uh. It’s nothing, I’m good. I’m fine.” 

Ned looks unconvinced. “You look like you’re going to pass out.” he says. “Please don’t. I don’t think I could carry you.” 

It makes him laugh, if only a little. “No, I’m good, man. Did you get drinks? Let’s go.” Peter grabs a couple bags of gummy worms off the shelf and heads up front to the register. He glances off toward the open doors, half expecting to still see Steven standing there. Relief washes over him when he sees the doorway empty. 

The smell lingers in the air.


End file.
